


The bravest thing

by NuageNuageux



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, How Do I Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 14:37:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8289335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuageNuageux/pseuds/NuageNuageux
Summary: "Stiles is not even surprised when he sees him on his room’s doorway. He knew he would come." This fic couldn't be more cliché if I tried. But, well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my. Second fic in english ever. The first one is from two years ago. Let's just say that I had nothing better to do in my spare time ?
> 
> Not Beta'ed, so... Sorry if it's terrible xD

"Hey."

Stiles is not even surprised when he sees him on his room’s doorway. He knew he would come. It wouldn't be Derek if he didn't.

Derek is there, in his dark jeans and dark Henley, leather jacket on his shoulders, hands in his pockets. He should be brooding to complete the picture, Stiles thinks a little bit stupidly, but he’s not. Derek looks more like a bashful cat than an angry broody bad boy right now. Stupidly adorable. 

"Hey" Stiles says in a sigh.

He's sitting at his desk, his left leg bouncing slightly from nervousness. He watches Derek coming into the room with small steps, as if afraid by him. It's strange, and Stiles can't help but feels his heart tightening at the thought.

"The sheriff let me in."

Of course his father did. Otherwise Derek would have come in by the window, like he used to do in his creepy days. At least, Stiles supposes so. It 's been some time since Derek acquired some manners.  
Stiles gestures to Derek to sit down on his bed. Some part of his mind thanks the deities that he had some time to clean his room to the minimum, aka leave his not-that-dirty clothes under his bed instead of littering his mattress, and empty his bin from all the soiled tissues that must aggravate a wolf’s nose.

The silence is not really comfortable, but Stiles can’t imagine how to begin to talk. Derek is the surly type, sure, but right now he looks at Stiles like the twenty years old man is a piece of the past. His green eyes are full of some sort of a strange nostalgia, and fondness behind the tiredness. It’s weird, to be the focus of that stare. But he gets it. It’s the first time that Stiles killed someone in front of the pack. The first time that they could all be witnesses to Stiles’s "loss of innocence" since what happened with Donovan. And Stiles feels no guilt whatsoever, but the scrutiny is getting him antsy.

  
Stiles counts to another ten seconds when Derek begins.

"What you did today…"

He can’t even end his sentence, and Stiles bites his lip. He knows it was stupid. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, should have let Scott or another wolf go to the omega instead, but he couldn’t. The stranger was passing through Hale’s territory, killed a bunch of people in a week, terrorizing the population. And that night, when they were all face to face with the wolf, Stiles chose to shoot him in the back instead of letting him trying to murder one of his friends. And now, even with Derek here, who can’t look him in the eyes, Stiles can’t find in itself to regret it. He would do it again, and again, and a thousand times more if it meant that the pack were safe. That _Derek_ were safe.

"It was very brave."

Stiles sucks a breath and his eyes widen. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, but apparently that was all Derek had to say.

"Seriously? That’s all?"

The werewolf shrugs and the tips of his ears go a little red. Stiles can’t believe it.

"You mean, you’re not here to tell me I was stupid? Or that you could have handled it? Or, or that I should have let Scott try talking to him?"

Derek has his famous constipated look on, and Stiles has to reign back a snort. This is so unexpected that he doesn’t know how to react with this lack of reaction from Derek.

"Sorry to disappoint you" Derek mutters gruffly.

"No! No, you don’t get to do that. Stop being so… Ugh."

The silence makes its comeback, and this time Stiles takes the opportunity to stare at the other man.  
Gone is the fond look in Derek’s eyes. Now he’s hunched as if someone took away the last chocolate chip cookie without asking him if he wanted it. This is borderline ridiculous.

"Sorry, I guess. It’s just, I’m not used to you being nice to me after a fight. You’re more of an overbearing parent, watching over us and getting angry when we do something that scares you."

Derek flinches back a bit, and Stiles is at a loss. What did he say now?

"Not that’s a bad thing! It’s just surprising to get a compliment from you, that’s all. Fuck, I mean, you’re more like a protective type? There’s nothing wrong with it, of course, but that doesn’t come with nicely said things? Especially when one of us gets hurt but, well we’re all fine and it’s a miracle, because I think this is the first time we win a battle without any scratch or broken bones and that in itself is something worth noticing, right?"

And now Derek is looking at the floor, and Stiles feels completely out of his depth.

  
So he takes a deep breath, and ends his monologue by a simple but heartfelt:

"Thank you."

At that Derek lifts his head, and nods shyly.

"I meant it."

"Yeah, I know."

By these simple words, the atmosphere feels lighter instantly. It’s a weird feeling but not unwelcome, on the contrary.

"Soooo" Stiles continues stretching the o. "What’s up?"

The corner of Derek’s mouth is lifting slightly, and Stiles answers in kind.

"Well, I just wanted to see you. To see how you’ve been since earlier."

"I’m good" Stiles says with a shrug.

"Right. I can see that."

 

They look at each other, and maybe they should stop. But Stiles is getting lost in these beautiful eyes framed by light wrinkles, and the stubbly cheeks and the dimpled little smile. He looks at the soft, dark curls that fall on Derek’s forehead, the way his ears redden by the minute and his chest that falls and rises with every breath he takes. In that moment Derek is mesmerizing and soft, and Stiles watches him with devouring eyes. He knows he must look like a fool, but he doesn’t care. He can’t care, faced with that much beauty in front of him. And the way Derek’s looking at him, makes his heart skip a beat and his stomach flutter.

 

Suddenly, Derek stands up. Stiles startles by the sudden move. The werewolf takes a step, and another. Stiles feels his throat going tight and takes a second before taking a deep breath in. The air is charging with electricity, an anticipation for something greater than what Stiles ever expected.  
And when Derek puts his hand on Stiles’s cheek, delicately, like Stiles is something so fragile, so breakable, he finds himself trembling slightly. Lifting up his head to follow Derek’s eyes, he swallows loudly.

Oh boy.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

The kiss should take him by surprise, but it doesn’t. He whimpers slightly when he feels firm lips against his, the hand on his face going slowly around the back of his neck.  
Too soon this is over, and Stiles can’t bring himself to open his eyes. He waits a moment but when he does, Derek is right here, in front of him, and even though his heart wants to jump out of his chest he knows. He knows what he has to do. He's prepared to take a shot at this.

"Hey, Derek?"

"Yes?"

"Stay?"

And that, that will be the bravest thing that Stiles would do today.


End file.
